


This Just In

by missmollyetc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One late night, one bad newspaper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Just In

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/rhydrim/profile)[**rhydrim**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/rhydrim/) who wanted 'Supernatural brothers' and 'kittens.' If she meant she wanted _actually supernatural brothers_...we might be having a problem. ;)

Sam squinted at the lighted windows of the convenience store, watching for Dean. Outside, the Oregon rain didn't just come down, it _poured_ as if God himself was standing over the Impala, upending a pitcher. Sam shrank down in his seat, angling his face to the ceiling. The rain beat down on the top of the car with a steady rumble. He touched the tips of his fingers to the rough ceiling and felt it vibrate.

A wet newspaper smacked into the side window next to Dean's manic grin.

Sam recoiled, slamming his elbow on the stickshift, and his knee on the glove compartment. Dean's face disappeared. The newspaper peeled off in his hand.

"Fuck," Sam muttered.

He pushed himself upright, pulling his arm in to his chest. The driver's side door opened, cold air rushing into the car, and the soaked newspaper plopped onto his thighs. He picked it up with two fingers. The corner ripped off and the paper landed back in his lap. He shook his hand, flicking his fingers until the clinging, wet pieces spiraled to the floor. The rest of the paper began to soak through his cargo pants.

"I hate you."

"Hey, just stop taking it out on the car," Dean said.

He settled into his seat, running his hands through his sopping hair. Water dripped down his face, gathering at the corners of his mouth. Dean's skin was pale from the cold, lips a startling pink. His tongue flickered out, a quick flash of red, and Sam found himself copying the movement.

Dean glanced over at him, sharp-eyed, but unhurried, and Sam coughed and waved the newspaper. Water sprinkled over his knee.

"What's this?" he asked, shifting the tiniest bit further away.

"Our next case," Dean said, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam picked up the newspapers with both hands, squeezing the soggy paper in his fingers. "Dean, this is a supermarket tabloid."

"Best investigative journalism in the world."

"You know, if you quote that, it makes you Tommy Lee Jones, right?"

"Long as it doesn't make me the bug."

Dean's arm slipped under Sam's. He reached over and flicked the front page photo, right on the...kitten's nose?

"It's the poltergeist of the founding publisher?" Sam asked.

"Nope."

Dean leaned closer. His arm pressed against Sam's side. His other hand landed on Sam's shoulder for balance. Sam's lips parted.

"Possessed journalist?" he asked.

"Wrong again, little brother," Dean said.

His breath puffed across Sam's neck. Sam's chin lifted. He licked his lips and tried to move away without actually looking like he was moving away. Dean was only fooling around. Sam stared at the front page, and tried to think of what they'd need with a supermarket tabloid.

"Poisonous ink?"

"Uh uh. Think...harder."

Again, Dean flicked the paper. He withdrew his arm, but kept leaning on Sam as if there wasn't an _entire_ driver's side seat just waiting for him on the other side. He'd have pushed Dean away, except then he'd have to drop the paper.

Sam coughed and narrowed his eyes. The low light from the street lamp gave the shadows crazy angles over the page. Dean breathed on his neck. He started humming the Jeopardy theme song under his breath. Sam elbowed him, and Dean pushed back.

"Come on," he groaned, rolling his head on the side of the seat. "It's right there!"

"Michigan Woman Gives Birth to Litter of Kittens?" Sam said. "Are you fu--_kidding_ me?"

"It's a legitimate case!"

"It's a crock," Sam said.

"Uh uh uh!" Dean held up one long finger and waggled it. "Remember Vancouver?"

Sam dropped the paper to the floor space. "One. That was one time. One stupid priestess of Bast."

"You're just pissed Dad didn't let you keep a kitten."

"I was--oh, shut up."

"Sam. Sammy..." Dean pushed his forehead into Sam's shoulder, rocking them back and forth.

"Knock it off," Sam said. He put his hand out, but instead of shoving Dean away, his palm curved over the hollow at Dean's temple. His fingers scratched through the short, wet brush of Dean's hair.

Dean looked up, tilting his head under Sam's hand. He grinned, teeth flashing, and Sam felt a rope tighten around his stomach. He dropped his hand, and looked out the window to the rain.

"Let's go," he said.

"Seriously?"

He felt Dean move away, heard the squeak and tiny squish as his wet clothes moved across the car seat. Sam kicked the wet paper at his feet. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go. Sooner we start, the sooner we're there."

"You know...it's always darkest before the dawn," Dean said.

"Dean..."

"Every cloud has a silver lining."

_"Dean."_

"Behind every good man--"

"Would you start the damn car already?"

Dean tossed his head back, cackling until Sam slapped him on the arm. He tapped his thumb ring on the steering wheel in time with the rain beating on the car. The key turned in the ignition. The engine turned over, purring as they drove out of the parking lot.


End file.
